THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, September 15, 1996 TAG: 9609130199
SECTION: VIRGINIA BEACH BEACON PAGE: 07 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: ON THE STREET
SOURCE: Bill Reed
LENGTH: 63 lines
Ah, those Romans! They were a clever bunch - always had the right word or phrase for every situation.
For instance, the dating scene. Imagine a young Roman studmuffin strolling into a night spot and scoping out the local talent around the bar.
He adjusts his toga, smiles rakishly and addresses the nearest and fairest maiden thusly:
``Hiatus valde deflendus,'' which roughly means ``Long time no see, babe.''
He then introduces his buddy Al to the maiden's red-headed friend. Al, who considers himself a real lady killer, addresses the redhead in this manner:
``Dea certa,'' he croons, meaning ``Assuredly a goddess.''
Red shrugs, looks at her nails and wryly replies: ``Hic funis nihil attraxit,'' which translates into, ``Buzz off, creep.''
Whereupon, the Roman swain and his buddy Al turn on their heels and make their way down the bar toward more likely prospects, muttering, ``Frusta laborat qui omnbus placere studet,'' which sort of means, ``Hmph! You can't please everybody!''
When you strike out at the local singles bar, the two conclude, there's only one thing to do, order two cool brews and say, ``Ergo bibamus!'' or ``Down the hatch!''
Next morning at the doctor's office, our Roman hero balks at the suggestion that he needs a gallbladder operation. ``Graviora quaedam sunt remedia periculis,'' he sighs. This translates roughly into: ``The cure is worse than the disease,'' or ``I need a second opinion.''
And, when our Roman citizen learns that he is about to be audited by the Roman equivalent of the IRS he develops acute tax stress syndrome like any modern counterpart would. ``Hac urget lupus, hac canis,'' he says to his wife, Thelma.
Approximate translation: ``I'm in deep doo doo.''
Thelma claps her hand to her head and cries: ``Graviora manent!'' or ``The worst is yet to come!'' then adds, ``Gravis ira regum est semper,'' or ``Your butt is grass and they're the lawn mower, Mr. Smarty Pants!''
A short time later he visits his lawyer Bernie, who gravely advises him thusly: ``Hoc sustinete maius ne veniat malum,'' which means, ``Cop a plea!''
Bernie adds: ``Accusare nemo se debet, nisi coram deo,'' which is more or less Latin for ``Take the Fifth.''
``Alia tendanda via est,'' he shrugs. ``I guess it's back to the old drawing board.''
As usual Thelma has the last word.
``Mali principii malus finis,'' she says smugly. ``I knew you'd wind up like this, dummy!''
``Vitiis nemo sine nascitur,'' our Roman mutters, or, ``Nobody's perfect.''
``Multa cadunt inter calicem supermaqua labra,'' he adds. ``So sue me, I goofed!''
``Mus non uni fidit antro,'' Thelma answers. ``A smart guy always has a backup plan!'' ``Naufragium sibi quisque facit!'' ``You brought this all on yourself. That's what my mother says.''
``Latrante uno, latrat statim et alter canis,'' our hero replies, meaning,``Yeah, yeah. She's always gotta stick her nose in my business!''
Yes, those Romans were an ingenious bunch. Tossing around mots and pithy phrases for every situation. Us modern folks could learn a lot from 'em, if only we could understand what the heck they were saying.
Thanks to Eugene Ehrlich, author of the book ``Veni, Vidi, Vici,'' we can - sort of. by CNB